


Anthology of Matter

by MinisteryOfMonsters



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Horror, Mutant Powers, Other, Science Fiction, Supernatural Elements, Time Travel, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 11:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17099912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinisteryOfMonsters/pseuds/MinisteryOfMonsters
Summary: "Anthology of Matter" tells a collection of tales about the unusual happenings of the selected few. Their lives are altered by fate and their decisions impact the people and world around them. Some are fond of their unusual creation, others discard it.Whatever unusual creation they have obtained, their power tells a story of which can never be predicted.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying out something new so let's ride this out and see how it goes. I don't know when I'll update so expect a chapter in a few months or so. It really depends on my creativity and motivation and especially my time due to University work. Either way, I hope you enjoy whatever this is.

_..._

_You can handle the world, it becomes a common step to pass._

_You know the hardships and the wonders and live on like always._

_You find yourself surrounded with matter, particles that passed through your very being and you begin to see the world in a new light._

_Such a light, that sparkled with beauty._

_You reach for it._

_You take hold._

_You never let go._

_It blinds you, and you feel no more._

 ...

**_Anthology of Matter_ **

 


	2. Lakenheath

_From her hands, the substance grows._

_It shines._

_..._

I recall the moment my life changed. It seemed so sudden to me that now I wonder if it would have been any different had my age not made be blind. All I know is that when my mother looked into my eyes, knees bent down, and hands held tight, she saw the utter fear within me. Much like a monster, she tried to scare it away and to ensure my worst fears were merely illusions of my youthful mind. She only wanted to make me forget about the violent warfare around us. But I did not understand, for I was too young to take hold of the thought of dread. I only cared for my mother, for I wished to remain with her until the end. But that did not happen.

I was told that I had to leave for safety from the blitz. My family didn't explain them to me. Rather, I knew of their wrath already and feared them nonetheless. So, when a strange man came to us, posture so tight and rigid that I was certain he would snap and told us that the time had come to move away to a safe place, I was not ready. Yet, I was sure it was the right thing to do. But it was no lie that I was afraid of the future, not knowing the path that was set for me and all others within my homeland. But my mother told me it would be safe. And I believed her.

I remember the look of the building. It was named Lakenheath Elementary, and, to my knowledge, it was known as a private school. I would have known sooner if I had only asked. But I never did, and neither did anyone else. I remember the faint smell of something foul and rotten, but I only assumed it was something common like a dead animal due to the quiet and isolated fields hidden in the countryside of Brough. Again, I did not ask.

The building, if I recall, was coated in a deep blackness that stood out against the vibrant green and blue of the world around me. The bricks showed signs of age, chipping away. The school was surrounded by a sharp fence that could only be entered through the school gate that hoisted overhead. Such size required me to physically tilt my head to the aqua blue and the darkness scratched the sky like claws. But I did not ask why.

I wish I did.

Many other students, like myself, had come here from many places across the great island. I never asked their names, nor did I care. I must admit that, even now, I was a child of silence and took no time to speak when it was most desired. It never made much sense to me, so I took no effort to try. Although, all the children that lived at the school were the same, for we all felt that uneasiness from the grounds.

Inside, it felt like any normal school. The classrooms were set out as expected and the walls were painted with mediocrity and carelessness that reminded me of my own school. The teachers were just as strict as any other but we all felt it, the unease.

That's when we found out about the special sessions.

In the first few months, maybe even years, we proceeded to live our youthful lives. I played and teased like any other child, spoke when I felt it was needed and learned like I should. I even caught the eye of another quiet child, Quirin, who I recognised from my own school. We never talked, but I knew of his presence like any other child. He was nobody, much like all of us.

It began when we were in class. The man from before stood at the doorframe and held a clipboard of some kind. My teacher, Mrs Heathermore, explained that some of the children were required for extra lessons and, in addiction, would be given more help. A child I did not know was chosen from the group and was taken away for the rest of the night.

They didn't come back.

I asked my teacher the whereabouts of the child, but she was hesitant to answer. She merely smiled and said "She's gone home now. There's no need to worry."

Needless to say, I was.

It kept going after that, child after child was taken from the classrooms. Sometimes it was more in numbers than normal and sometimes it was for many days on end. And each time it ended, the child either left or was sent back. And sent back, dare I say, in the most repulsive of manners.

It was first noted with a young boy, Simon I believe, who was taken on the day before me. And when he returned, his demeanour was different. His mind worked differently, and he acted as if he saw something around him. He spoke to it sometimes and the children laughed at the strangeness. In honesty, I laughed with them.

But now I feel no humour, for when my turn came, I saw the truth.

The sessions were within rooms of white, women and men wore coats of camouflage against it and a bed sat lonely against the wall. I was asked, with stern eyes staring, to sit upon it. There, I gazed at the sharp needle filled with something unrecognisable. The substance was something the equivalent of star dust. Small particles of stars swam inside it with the deepest blues and purples I had set eyes on. They asked me to lift up my sleeve, and so I did.

When I left that room, I felt unkind.

My body began to react strangely, it fed on my mind as I head faint noises of a woman screaming, echoing against my ears, and the sound of gunfire, raging a storm around me. I saw things in the corner of my eyes, the sight of things I had never seen before. Machines that I could not comprehend and faces that looked nothing like anything I had ever seen. And then, I began to see other things.

Things that I wish I never did.

I felt the effects feed on me, my mind did not work as it used to and I felt out of control. My body began to twitch at the slightest of movements and with each session that I attended, it only became worse.

It became a living nightmare, when I witness the downfall of Quirin.

He had taken a much darker path due to the sessions. His words became slurred and mixed. His eyes remained forever bloodshot, tired even, and he acted with such aggression that I remember he once was placed in a quiet room because he began to do such horrible things to himself.

That day, such a day I remember so clearly, was the day I would never forget. For I watched Quirin, hunched over his bed with his hands over himself, disintegrating.

His skin, so pale and weak, was melting. Burning and hanging from his bones while he bled endlessly. I watched in horror at his face that cried with fear and distress. I begged my teacher to help, for all she did was stand there and watch with a disgusting smile on her face. A sweet smile now tainted and ruined. I screamed at her as she stood almost dazed at the sight. And all she could say, within this moment of horror, was something that broke my core.

"It will be ok, he's going home."

He didn't go home. He died that night. His remains stained the ground with blood and boiling skin the equivalent of a sizzling pan. The youth around me stood with un-removable fear as each of us were dragged away. We begged to stop the sessions, pleaded with our lives. But we were not heard, and more of us were 'sent home' each day. But somehow, I remained alive.

It turned the day of my seventeenth birthday when I lost my sense of reality. I began to write down my thoughts on paper to remember the unimportant events of my life, for my mind began to die along with me. Each needle that was placed within my veins changed my mood. I felt the sensation of something new flowing through me and I had no clue what devilish occurrences where happening.

But I had no power to stop this madness, this hellish nightmare. All I could do was stand helplessly and watch as one by one my fellow classmates lowered in numbers, fading in such horrendous ways. Until, ultimately, I was the last one.

Now, I stand within the same room staring at the blank world surrounding me. Mrs Heathermore stands completely still against the doorframe of the room. I find myself glancing at her now and then. But she doesn't move or attempt to make any sound. I make no effort to try. After some time, the doors swing open and the same women and men with white coats and blank gazes come towards me. They hold those same needles from years ago. Now, I do not remember how long ago it was since that day. I care very little for myself that such horrible acts no longer faze me, nor do they scare me. They can do as they please, and I will let them.

"We've reached the final step," one started. "One last injection and it should begin."

"I can't believe the time we have taken for such an act; we should have been more efficient." Mrs Heathermore, after it seemed to be too long, spoke finally.

"Never mind that now. What's important is that we have our subject and all we ever dreamed for is finally becoming a reality."

I made no attempt to protest.

I watched with little effort as they raised my arm once more and pricked the edge of the needle against my stony skin. The substance once so beautiful was now tasteless in my system as it entered faultlessly. They stood with anticipation as their feet carried them away from me.

They waited.

I did not waver beneath them. I held my gaze, even with the flowing pain that grew ever so slightly within me. One had lost his patience and rushed to take my arm, dragging me to stand. I complied immediately.

"Is it working?" Once ask.

"Nothing is happening. Good grief, nothing!"

"Perhaps we injected the cells incorrectly?"

"Don't be ridiculous! The matter cells enter the body regardless. They don't protest about the access."

"You would be surprised."

That was when the sensation grew more. An overflowing power I did not recognise began to take control. And without hesitation, I took the man's arm in my own and held tight.

"Richard, get back." They warned, but I held firm.

"She's not letting go. Release me!"

But I would not, not anymore. For I felt such power inside of me that I could scream with delight. The pain no longer hindered me as my grip tightened and a faint glow began to appear before me. I know I could hear them, screaming to run. But I would not let them.

Before I was conscious again, the room had flared with a bright red and the heat brushed against my cheek. But there was no fire, rather there was nothing but the white room that stood untouched. But beside my eyes, I saw the flare of a red glow and the people that once held me down had vanished before my eyes. The man they called Richard was no more as his body was left still on the ground with his body slowly fading away. Mrs Heathermore knelt defeated on the ground, her arm hung beside her as a small sparkle of a crystal-like substance began to grow. As Richard was left to his fate, the same material was growing around him.

"It worked..." Mrs Heathermore spoke with amazement, despite her own existence beginning to falter.

I gazed at her, arms raised, and waited.

"You could have been so much more, Mae. If only you allowed us."

The glow retuned, feeding at my hands through a throbbing sensation. The crystals grew around them as they did against the white surface of the walls and floor.

My voice was found, seething through gritted teeth.

"You  _killed_  them."

"We killed them to find you. The perfect replicant of the human race. You will allow us to preserve our existence in the future. And we will continue to do so again."

"No."

She frowned at me. "You would stop us?"

"No. but I will stop  _you._ "

I felt peace, at last, as the radiance cultivated and I became one with the world.


End file.
